


Into You

by StarBurnedOut



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Minor Supernatural Threat, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-04 09:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarBurnedOut/pseuds/StarBurnedOut
Summary: After Malia helps Scott deal with a problem he's been having, they end up hooking up, and decide to keep their new relationship a secret from all their friends. That turns out to be easier said than done. Post-5B, diverging from canon from there.





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> New story, finally. I've been wanting to revisit the secret dating concept since I first touched on it in Simplicity. This is that. Or it will be in coming chapters. Fingers crossed I can keep it on the rails this time. Enjoy.

**01**

Scott was sprawled out on the grass, head pillowed on his crossed arms as he looked up at the star-filled sky above. Behind him, he could hear the thumping bass of the music spilling out from the raging house party, leaking through the walls. He was enough distance away, down by the edge of the lawn, that it was muffled, a far cry from earlier when he’d been inside, head aching from the noise.

That unrelenting assault on his senses was a part of why he'd ended up outside, but it wasn't the whole reason. Even if it hadn’t been unbearably loud, he would have still snuck out. He hadn’t wanted to be there at all, had only shown up because Lydia had played the friend card, asked him to do it for her. The last party she threw had gone completely off the rails, so this time, she wanted someone around she could count on to stay sober, just in case things got out of hand again. That narrowed her options down to just the members of the pack with a supernatural constitution, and since Malia had plans and was going to be busy elsewhere, she told him she needed him. And it worked. She knew exactly which buttons to press to work him, and he’d given in, said yes, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, the last place he wanted to be.

Ten minutes. That was how long he’d lasted before the urge to escape hit him. Never a fan of crowds, he’d found himself particularly bothered this time, everything quickly adding up. The sound, the smell, the heat of a bunch of people dancing and drinking, it all had him unconsciously looking for the exit almost as soon as he arrived.

Fighting that impulse had taken some effort, but he'd managed to suppress it for a little while, convinced himself to stick it out, see if it got better. Spotting Lydia watching him like a hawk several times, like she’d guessed which directions his thoughts had gone in, was just more motivation to stay. If he’d cut out that early and she saw it, he’d never hear the end of it.

So he’d stayed, despite every part of him begging him to leave. In fairness to the party, he knew it was only part of the problem. The other part was all him, an issue he'd been dealing with all week. He’d been very on edge for days, irritated and uncomfortable no matter where he was, what he was doing. He'd been having trouble sitting still, found himself fidgeting, tapping his fingers or bouncing his leg, whenever he tried. He had no idea what was wrong, what was causing it, but it was clearly a major player in how uneasy he was, maybe the driving force behind his nearly overwhelming desire to get out, to get away. He’d been feeling cooped up even when he was alone in his own room lately. Surrounded by dozens of people, everything was exponentially worse.

Gutting it out for over an hour had taken every ounce of will power he had. Slightly easier at first, he’d stuck to the less-crowded rooms, talked with a few people he knew, tried to kill time, distract himself. It worked to a point, but he was never able to fully relax, and eventually, things got so bad, he had to leave. Feeling claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in, he’d enlisted Stiles to keep Lydia busy, and snuck out the back door while she was distracted.

Outside, in the cool night air, things were a little easier. He could breathe again.

After a couple deep breaths, and feeling more comfortable, he’d decided to stick around, honour his promise to Lydia as best he could. It wasn’t quite the same as actually being inside, but he was within shouting distance if anything happened, would hear if things got too rowdy. It would have to do, because there was no way he was going back inside.

“Scott.”

His eyes had drifted closed, lulled by the quiet, the stillness, but they flew open at the sound of his name, of footsteps in the grass. For a brief second, as he turned to see who it was, he thought it was Lydia coming to drag him back inside, and had to bite back a reflexive snarl. But in the next instant, he recognised Malia’s voice and relaxed, even before his eyes picked her up, slowly approaching out of the dark.

“Hey,” he greeted, as she settled down in the grass next to him. “What are you doing here?”

She leaned back, arms braced on the ground behind her, and shrugged. “Stiles told me you were out here. Thought I’d come out, check on you. You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He was pretty sure he could hear the eye-roll in her voice when she said, “Because you’ve been acting weird all week. Something's obviously up with you.”

His lips twitched as fought the urge to grin. Of course she’d realised something was wrong with him. He hadn’t said anything to her, hadn’t said anything to anybody, because it didn't seem that important, but she’d proven time and time again just how little actually escaped her attention. Being around when he’d snapped at Liam a few days ago, losing it over some stupid thing that hadn’t really mattered at all had probably tipped her off too. She hadn't brought it up again, hadn't mentioned it at all, but he’d seen the surprise on her face, the concern, and he got it. It had been uncharacteristically harsh of him, something he wouldn't normally do, wouldn't allow himself to do. But he wasn’t feeling particularly like himself, hadn’t been for days.

“I’m okay,” he said, flashing her a reassuring smile. Which wasn’t a complete lie. He was definitely closer to it than he had been, out here, away from everybody and everything. “That wasn’t what I meant, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“What are you doing _here_? As in, here at the party. I thought you had plans with your dad or something.”

She'd made it very clear over the last few days she wasn’t coming, rebuffing Lydia’s many attempts to convince her, citing family stuff she couldn't get out of. It was another part of why he'd been reluctant to come. The last couple of parties he'd been to, he'd ended up pairing off with her at some point, dancing and inevitably ending up in a corner somewhere, people-watching and making fun of some of the more ridiculous antics they saw. A party without her had seemed even less appealing than a regular one. 

“Oh, right.” She grinned. “That was a lie. I just didn’t feel like coming.”

“So... why are you here then?”

“I came for you.” His eyebrows shot up, and she quickly backtracked. “I mean, I came to bail you out. I knew Lydia would try the same thing with you she did with me. And I knew you’d give in, even though you didn’t want to. So I figured I’d show up, give you an excuse to cut out early. Looks like you didn’t need me though, huh?” She gestured around them, a questioning look on her face. “How'd you end up out here anyway? And why didn’t you just leave?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I was going to. But then I got outside, and I felt a little better. Fresh air helped.”

“Ah.” Looking up at the sky above, she was quiet for a second, taking in the sight. “It is pretty.”

“Yeah.” A beat. “Wait. What do you mean, you knew I’d give in?” He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted by that or not. “I’m not that predictable, am I?”

She huffed out a breath through her nose, amusement written all over her face as she looked down at him. “Come on, Scott. You’re a softie. We all know it. Lydia’s just the only one willing to exploit it so much." He frowned, eyes narrowing as opened his mouth to deny her words, but she cut him off. "Seriously. It's bad. _Please, Scott, do it for me_. We say those words, and you fold." She shook her head slowly. “You need to learn how to say no sometimes.”

“No.”

She snorted, bumping her arm against his elbow, and they shared a grin.

A comfortable silence fell between them then, and he returned his attention to the stars above. As he looked up at the mass of bright points, he thought about what she’d said. He knew it was true, but it wasn’t really his fault. He wanted to help people, especially his friends. It was just who he was. And he didn’t mind if they took advantage of it from time to time, because he knew if the situation was reversed, he could count on them. If he needed something, anything tomorrow, he could ask Lydia, and she’d be there for him in a second. Still, it was a little disconcerting to have it pointed out so plainly. 

Lost in his thoughts, it took him a few minutes to notice Malia had moved, stretching out on her side next to him. It was only when he looked over, found her looking back, studying him closely, that he realised there was something like concern on her face.

“What?” he asked, self-conscious under the unexpected scrutiny.

“Nothing. Just... you know you can talk to me about stuff, right?” The softness in her voice was belied by the intense look in her eyes, gaze never wavering from his. “I mean, you know I’m here for you if you need to get something off your chest, right?”

Brow furrowed, he nodded. “Yeah...” He wasn’t sure what this was about, what had brought on the sudden shift in her tone, her demeanor, but it felt serious.

“I mean it. Anytime you need someone to listen, or help, or whatever. Anytime you need me, I’m here.” She was picking up speed as she talked, her words running together, and he suddenly got the feeling she’d had to work herself up to this. She almost sounded nervous, which was the last thing he expected from her. “I know you’ve got Stiles, and Lydia, and your mom, and the rest of the pack to go to, but I just wanted to say that—”

“Malia.” Turning onto his side, he reached out, grabbed her hand, lips twisted in a bemused smile. “I know all that. I know you. You don’t have to remind me.”

Which was true. In the months since everything with the Dread Doctors, the Beast, that whole situation, the two of them had spent a lot of time together. The whole pack had made an effort to be closer, more open with each other, none of them interested in a repeat of what Theo had managed to do to them. He liked to think he knew her better than he did before, had a much more real sense of who she was, of his position in her life. He certainly knew where she stood in his, what she meant to him, what he was willing to do for her. So, while he appreciated hearing the words, they weren’t really necessary, and not knowing what had prompted them was messing with him a little.

“I know I don’t,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I wanted to anyway.”

“Okay.” Uncertain, he searched her face, looking for a clue about why she suddenly saying this. “What’s going on? Why now?”

She hesitated for a second, licked her lips. “You’re okay, right? It’s just—you’ve been acting strange all week, and I know you haven’t talked to anyone else about it, and I—I’m worried about you.”

Her admission came out soft, and he couldn’t help but smile, touched. “I’m okay,” he said softly, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “It’s just been a rough week. I’ve been...” He trailed off, shook his head, not quite sure how to put it into words. “I just been feeling a bit off, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. I don’t know, maybe I’m just coming down with something.”

“We don’t get sick.”

She had him there.

“Right, yeah. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about me. It’ll pass.”

For a second, she was completely still, eyes boring a hole in his, like she was searching for something. “You sure?” she finally asked, and he nodded. For a second, something he thought might be disappointment flashed across her face, disappearing in an instant, replaced by a tight-lipped smile. “Okay. Just... if you want to talk... if you change your mind...” She let the words hang in the air between them, an open offer.

Lying there, looking at her, seeing the emotion in her expression, the sincere desire to help, he hesitated. He hadn’t really considered bringing it up with her, with any of his friends, because as strange as he’d been feeling, he didn’t consider it a major issue. No reason to cause alarm, especially since he couldn’t see how any of them could help, and because he didn’t want to burden them. It was his problem, and he could deal with it on his own. But she was here, now, offering, and he was having a hard time figuring out why taking her up on it was anything but a good idea.

So he gave in.

“It’s hard to explain.” He kept his voice low, unsure of exactly how to describe things. “That’s part of why I didn’t say anything. I just don’t feel quite right. It’s not... it’s not like pain or anything like that. Everything just sort of feels off, like I can’t get comfortable anymore, no matter what I’m doing. It’s...” He frowned and looked past her, searching for the words. “It’s like an itch I can’t scratch, except it’s all over, y'know? It’s really annoying. And I can’t stop moving. Look.” As he was speaking, his hand had started bouncing, fingers tapping on the ground, nothing he was doing intentionally. “I've been really twitchy all week, and I don’t know why.”

“I noticed that,” she said, eyes moving to his hand, then back up to his face. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from her, but the contemplative look she was giving him definitely wasn’t it. “You said the fresh air helped, right?” He nodded. “Does it always help?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Pursing his lips, he rolled back over onto his back, crossed his arms behind his head again. “I feel better outside in general, y’know? When I’m inside, I sort of feel trapped. School’s been... not a lot of fun.”

“It never is.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “No. But especially bad lately.” Pausing, he took a second to just look up at the sky, considering. “I don’t know, I guess I just sort of feel restless when I’m inside. Like, I shouldn't really be there, I should be... somewhere else. Nowhere specific, just somewhere else. Every time a door opens, I have to stop myself from just getting up and walking out. And it’s pretty much impossible to sit still. It's like... it's like I’ve got too much energy or something.”

“What about at night?” There was something in her voice, like a light bulb had turned on for her, an odd note that had him turning back toward her, curious. But her face was closed off, giving nothing away. “Are you sleeping all right?”

“No...” He drew the word out, waiting to see if she’d blink, give him a clue about where her thoughts were going, but her expression never changed. “I’ve been waking up at weird times. Doesn't seem to matter how late or early I go to bed. And it’s never, like, normal or peaceful. I sort of jolt awake, and—”

“Your heart’s racing and it’s kind of hard to breathe, and you just feel like the roof is caving in on you." There was a triumphant tone to her words, like she’d just solved a puzzle, and she sat up sharply. “And then you get out of bed and pace around your room like a caged animal, because you can’t sleep, you can’t really do anything, and you don’t know what’s wrong, or what you can do to fix it.” Her eyes locked on his, pinning him in place. “Am I right?”

Eyes wide, he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. When he’d decided to start talking, he been hoping for a sympathetic ear at best. He definitely hadn’t been expecting to hear his own experiences recited back to him like she’d been the one to live through them.

“Uh, yeah. That’s exactly right,” he finally got out, frowning as her whole face lit up, a smile twisting her lips. “How did you—”

Before he could finish the question, she was moving, climbing to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said, as she quickly brushed off her jeans, then held out a hand for him to take. “We’re leaving.”

“We are?” he asked, reeling from the sudden shift in her mood, even as he let her pull him to his feet. “Why?” She went to turn away, but he stopped her, hand clutching hers tight. His heart was beating hard, her excitement contagious, but he was too curious to just let it go so easily. “Malia, what’s going on?”

Facing him, she reached out with her free hand and grabbed his, looking him directly in the eye. “I know what’s wrong with you.” That stopped him short. “I know what’s wrong.” A wide grin spread across her face. “And I know how to fix it.”

“What? How?”

She shook her head. “Do you trust me?”

“I—yeah, of course I do. But—”

“Good. Come on. We’re going to my house.”

* * *

For a second after Malia pressed the bundle of clothes into his hands, Scott just looked at them, not sure what was going on. He blinked slowly, taking in the grey sweatpants and dark t-shirt, while she stood there, watching him expectantly. His only thought was that they looked oddly familiar.

“What are these?” He held up the bundle and arched an eyebrow, completely nonplussed.

She rolled her eyes. “What do they look like? They’re clothes. Go put them on.”

“Uh, why?” He looked down at himself, just to make sure he hadn’t blacked out and somehow ended up naked. He hadn't. “I’m already wearing clothes.”

“Oh my God, Scott, just go change. Believe me, you’re not gonna want to be wearing those jeans in a minute,” she said, grabbing his arm and giving him a shove in the direction of the bathroom. “Get them on, then meet me out back. Five minutes.” More confused than ever, he tried to stop, opening his mouth to protest. Or maybe question. He wasn’t sure which. Before he could get a word out, she gave him another shove, then disappeared into her room, shutting the door behind her. “Five minutes!”

Left staring at her closed door, he was still for a moment, slowly shaking his head, before he turned and made his way into the bathroom. A part of him was frustrated by her behaviour, how she point-blank refused to let him in on whatever she was planning. But she kept telling him to trust her, and he did. He trusted that she wanted to help him, that she actually had something in mind and wasn't just making it up on the spot. He trusted her, so he was willing to keep playing along, just like he had the entire car ride to her house, when she’d remained stubbornly tight-lipped, despite his repeated attempts to pry something, anything out of her.

“Look on the bright side,” he muttered to himself as he stripped down. “At least you don’t have to go back to the party.”

Three minutes later, he stepped through the sliding glass door, out onto the back porch. Malia was already there, waiting for him, and he immediately noticed he wasn’t the only one in different clothes. She’d traded in her jeans and jacket for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, swapped out her boots for shoes, and was in the process of tying her hair back in a ponytail.

“Hey. Question,” he said as he approached, tugging at the hem of his shirt. After getting re-dressed, he’d been more than a little surprised when he looked in the mirror and abruptly realised why his borrowed clothes had looked so familiar at first. “Are these mine?”

She didn’t even look at him. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” He waited a beat. “Why do you have them?”

“You gave them to me.” She finally looked at him, and he saw the hint of a smile twisting her lips. “Just before Christmas, remember? You missed school, and I was bored, so I came to visit...”

He snorted. “Oh, right.” Her car had been in the shop, so she’d shifted and ran to his house rather than waiting for a ride, not even thinking about what would happen when she shifted back. The whole pack kept a change of clothes for her at their respective houses now, just in case, but at the time, they’d had to improvise. “Using a pretty broad definition of ‘gave’ there, huh?” he said through a grin. “I let you borrow them, and you, what, just decide to keep them?”

She shrugged. “They’re comfortable.”

“They’re—you’ve been wearing them?”

“Yeah. I sleep in them sometimes.” At his incredulous look, she shrugged again. “What? I already said they’re comfortable.” Moving forward, she stopped right in front of him, making eye contact and arching an eyebrow. "That's not a problem, is it? I mean, I guess I could return them if you want. But I'd rather keep them.”

He swallowed, unnerved by how close she suddenly was, her face just inches from his. It was something she did a lot when she was playing, never afraid to get into his personal space. And he often found himself wondering why he was so okay with it, despite the fact it caught him off-guard every single time. He would have suspected she did it so much because she'd recognised the impact it had on him, if he wasn't so sure it was just a quirk she had, a piece of who she was. Though he had started noticing lately how she tended to do it to him more than anybody else, and a part of him found that very intriguing.

Abruptly realising his mind had been wandering, he cleared his throat, shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I just—”

“Good,” she said, a teasing grin spreading across her face, “because I’m not giving them back.” She backed off a step, but held his gaze until he threw up his hands, conceding defeat even as he fought to keep from smiling. Then she swept around him and headed out onto the lawn, leaving him standing there, slowly shaking his head. “Come on,” she called back over her shoulder. “We’re here for a reason.”

“Yeah, and what is that reason, exactly?” he asked as he hurried after her, catching up just as they reached the tree-line at the edge of the lawn. It was dark this far from the house, the moon barely a sliver in the sky, just a slight glow spilling out from inside the house. Squinting, he peered into the woods, trying and failing to pierce through the darkness, to see anything other than the vague outline of branches. On a night like this, he might as well be staring into the void for all the good it did him. “I mean, I’m guessing we’re running or something?” 

“Yeah."

That explained the clothing change. But it didn’t explain why she thought running was supposed to help him out.

“Malia, how is that going to—”

“Hey,” she interjected, nudging his side with her elbow. “This is going to help, all right?” The words came out mild, strong threads of amusement and exasperation running through them, despite the intensity of her stare as she locked eyes with him. “Do you trust me or not?”

He couldn't have looked away if he wanted to. “You know I do.”

“Then just go with it, okay? I know what I’m doing.” She waited until he nodded, then gestured nodded toward the trees. “Do you know where the Nemeton is?”

Caught off-guard by the seemingly random question, he frowned, eyes narrowing. “Uh, yeah, I think so.” Returning his attention to the woods, he took a second to concentrate, searching for the low-level current of power he was always at least peripherally aware off, a sort of steady pulse he could feel no matter where he was in Beacon Hills. When he wasn’t thinking about it, it faded into the background, always there but easily ignored. But when he did focus on it, he could feel the energy radiating out from the tree, deep in the Preserve, a beacon to all supernatural beings. “There,” he said, pointing in the direction where the pull was strongest. “Straight that way.”

“Good. It’s a couple of miles there and back. Last one back here buys lunch tomorrow.” She looked over at him, eyes glowing vivid blue in the dark, and grinned, exposing more teeth than was necessary. “Don’t hold back.”

That was his only warning. Without another word, she sprung into motion, sprinting into the trees, disappearing into the dark like she'd been shot out of a cannon. He hesitated for a brief second, still unclear on exactly how this was supposed to help. But then her words came back to him, the look on her face, the look that told him she was absolute sure about this, convinced it would help, and it suddenly didn’t matter that he didn’t understand.

Glowing his eyes, he plunged into the woods, letting his sixth sense for the Nemeton guide the way. Up ahead, he could hear her racing forward, dead leaves and fallen branches crunching under foot, and increased his pace, trying to catch up. The trees were pretty spread out this close to civilization, making it fairly easy to maintain a straight-line path, but he knew from experience that wouldn’t be the same for long. Taking advantage of it while he could, he went all out, legs pumping hard, counting on his reflexes to keep him from crashing into or tripping over any obstacles in his path. 

It quickly became apparent that he was faster than her. He was rapidly gaining ground, longer legs eating up the distance, enough that he was sure he’d caught a glimpse of her up ahead through the branches a few times. Since the last time they’d really run together, really gone all out, she’d been on four legs, he hadn’t been sure who held the edge in that department. He knew from past experience he was a little stronger, while her senses were the slightest bit better, but speed had never really come up. It was coming up now as he pounded after her, the space between them quickly melting away.

“I’m right behind you!” he called out as he hit a small clearing just as she reached the far side. Her only response was to hold up her middle finger, drawing a breathless chuckle from him as she vanished back into the trees.

As the sprint continued, Scott found himself relying less on the Nemeton’s pull, zeroing in on her instead, her scent, to keep him moving. It wasn’t a conscious decision on his part, more of a result of who, of what he was. The race gradually morphed into more of a pursuit, a hunt, as the wolf in him reacted to the challenge, the freedom, and the irresistible lure of a moving target. His whole world narrowed down to just her, tunnel vision setting in, body moving on autopilot, instinctively avoiding everything in his way. The thrill of the chase was coursing through him as he closed the gap between them, flooding his system. He knew he was grinning, fangs showing, having shifted without even realising it. All the usual sounds, smells of the forest at night were pushed aside, his senses hyper-focused on her, the sound of her racing heart, her breathing drawing him forward, until he was almost close enough to touch her.

Unfortunately, his advantage couldn’t last forever. Before he could reach her, the woods around them started getting denser, more tightly-packed, and he had to slow down to avoid crashing into anything. Her pace never wavered, forcing the realisation that while he might be faster in open space, she was quicker, more agile, able to dodge between and around things easier than he could. That fact seemed to dawn on her at the same time, just as she started to pull away, widening her lead. He heard her elated laughter float back to him and couldn’t bite back the visceral growl that ripped from his throat.

He wanted to win.

Throwing caution to the wind, he sped back up, ignoring the branches scraping against his arms, clawing at him as he blew by them. He was determined to catch her, willing to pay the price to do it, every fibre of his being dedicated to that goal. But despite his determination, his best efforts, he could feel her pulling farther ahead.

Frustrated, he started to slow, only to abruptly burst into a familiar grove. Right before him was the Nemeton. Malia, however, was nowhere in sight. Confused, since he hadn’t passed her going the other way, he took a wide turn around the massive stump, and saw her standing maybe fifty feet down the tree-line from where he’d emerged, watching him. As soon as she realised she’d been spotted, she waved to him, then took off again, heading back the way they’d came. He didn’t hesitate, streaking after her, and the chase was on again.

This time, by some stroke of luck, the path she’d taken ended up being slightly less crowded than the other. While he wasn’t able to narrow her lead much, he was able to keep from letting it grow, hot on her trail. The only thought in his mind was staying close, so when they got back near her house, he’d be within striking distance. He’d win.

That thought lasted right up until he caught his arm on something and was sent careening into a nearby tree, nearly falling on his face as his claws scrabbled for a hold, something to keep him up.

“Fuck!” he bit out, gnashing his teeth together, claws digging deep into the bark of the tree.

The anger, the frustration at the forced stop lasted maybe ten seconds before rationality started to settle back in. As his head began to clear, that single-minded drive fading away, he took a couple deep breath, and couldn’t help but laugh. Lost in the chase, he hadn’t noticed, but now that he was calmer, his heart slowing down, he realised she’d been right. He felt better. He wasn’t sure why, what exactly had done it, but that irritating, uncomfortable sensation he’d been living with for the last week had completely abated. For the first time in awhile, he didn’t feel like clawing at his own skin, the tension gone from his shoulders, the annoying twitching a thing of the past. He felt like himself again, and it was exhilarating.

“I thought you got lost,” he heard a couple minutes later, as he jogged across her lawn, up to the porch. Malia was sitting on the top step, a teasing smile on her face, one that only widened as she watched him come to a stop before her. “I was about to go back and start looking for you.”

“Sorry, I got held up,” he said, in too good of a mood to be serious as he dropped down next to her. “Tree stepped out right in front of me, cut me off.”

“Rude.”

“I thought so.”

Silence fell between them then as Scott let his head loll back, letting out a heavy sigh. He wasn't as winded as he would have thought given the intensity of the run, but it had definitely taken something out of him. Closing his eyes, he took a couple of slow, deep breaths, enjoying the cool breeze blowing across his heated skin as he took the opportunity to figure out exactly what to say to Malia. He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, as he worked through it, waiting patiently for him to speak.

In the end, he kept it simple.

“I need to say thank you,” he said, looking at her. “This... whatever this was, it helped a lot. I feel better. I feel good. So, thank you. You were right.”

Her eyebrows shot up, mock surprise dominating her expression. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Grinning, he shook his head, bumped her shoulder with his. “You were right.”

“I usually am.”

“I do have a question though.” She arched an eyebrow, gestured for him to go on. “What did you do? I mean, what did we just do? Because I definitely feel better, but we just ran. It can’t really be that simple, right?”

In his experience, nothing was ever that simple. Things always had to be complicated or difficult, or straight-up impossible. Things just didn’t come easy.

“It can, it is. Really," she insisted, shrugging at his incredulous look. “I went through it before. I talked to Deaton about it once I figured out what the problem was.” That came as a surprise to him. Neither had ever mentioned anything like this to him before. “Turns out, even though we look human and live like humans, it doesn’t really make us the same as them. We’re built different, Scott. Like, on a physical level. Some of that werewolf strength is internal, or, like, magic or something, I don't know. But a lot of it is just physical. You’re literally built differently. And a normal human life just doesn’t take enough out of you. So the wolf needs to run sometimes, it needs to cut loose, and if you don’t give in, if you ignore it for too long...”

“You feel like crap,” he finished, nodding slowly. She favoured him with a faint smile, but he barely noticed, too busy thinking about what she’d said. It made sense, a lot of sense.

He’d felt restless before, after long periods of peace, but something always inevitably cropped up again, got him moving, running, out of the house before it could snowball into anything more. Or he had lacrosse, a reason to spend a bunch of hours a week out running around on the pitch, knocking people around, tiring himself out. But not this time. Things had been pretty uneventful since the Beast, just a random shifter here or there stirring up trouble, no big threat to keep him up, keep him moving. And lacrosse season hadn’t started yet. He hadn’t had a reason to push himself at all in any way since before Christmas, over a month ago, so he hadn’t. Clearly a mistake.

“Well, shit." He blew out a heavy breath. "Maybe I’ll take up jogging.”

She let out a little chuckle, prodded his arm with her elbow. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll last.” They shared a grin at that, before her expression abruptly turned serious. “But if you ever want to do this again, I'm game.” She waited a beat. "I mean, running is more fun with somebody else anyway. So, if that's what you want, I'm here."

“I know.” On impulse, he reached out and took her hand in his. Her eyes flitted down to where they were connected, and she slowly flipped hers over, intertwining her fingers with his. “Thanks for the offer. And thanks for listening. I...” He trailed off, a sheepish smile sliding across his face. “Sometimes I forget that just because a problem isn’t this huge thing, with dead bodies and crazy monsters, doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about. I probably wouldn’t have said anything on my own, so thanks for pushing me on it.”

“Glad I could help.” There was a husky quality to her voice, some emotion she was trying to suppress, but she pressed on before he could really think about it. “Maybe next time, you’ll remember to come straight to me when something’s wrong. Or, um...” She cleared her throat. “I mean, like, come to one of us. Your friends. Not— it doesn’t have to be me. Just...” He could hear the nerves in her voice as she trailed off, her heart beating fast again, and felt the beginnings of a realisation, an epiphany about how she'd been acting around him lately start to crystalise in his mind. But he didn't want to interrupt her, didn't want to say the wrong thing, and remained silent, waiting for her. “Just don’t forget you’ve got people who want to help you,” she finished softly, looking directly into his eyes.

“I won’t,” he solemnly vowed, giving her hand a squeeze. “I promise.”

They lapsed into silence then, and he was happy to let it happen. There was an odd tension in the air suddenly, in her, like she was building up to something, and he didn't want to overthink it. So he distracted himself by looking up, taking a moment to appreciate the sights. He’d always enjoyed being outside at night, and here, away from the city, it was so peaceful, so quiet. The only sounds were their breathing, their heartbeats, just the usual small forest animals and bugs making their noises off in the distance. It was incredible to him just how clear the sky was, how visible the stars were. The view from Lydia’s house had been great, but this was something else entirely, nearly untouched by lights or anything else.

Entranced by the sight, it took him awhile to realise Malia had slid closer to him, reducing the gap between them to virtually nothing. He could feel her warmth through their clothes, nearly touching all the way from ankle to shoulder. Slowly, he tilted his head to look at her, found her looking back, a hesitant expression on her face. She almost seemed to be holding her breath, like she was waiting for his reaction. When he smiled softly, she immediately brightened up, mirroring his expression, and relaxed into his side. A second later, he felt her head come to rest on his shoulder, and felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

“I should probably get going soon,” he murmured after a moment, curious to see what she'd say.

He didn't want to leave, didn't really have any intention to, but it felt like they were on the precipice of something, they just needed a little push. Malia was a physical person, one who had never been afraid to touch any of her friends, but this felt different. It had felt different all night. It felt like they’d crossed some invisible line, one he hadn’t even been aware of. But he was aware of it now, aware of her, how she felt pressed against him, the steady beat of her heart in sync with his own. Aware of the words, the little slips, the admissions of how much she cared, sentiments he'd been taking as platonic, something a friend would say, even as his own instincts were pointing out that interpretation might not be quite accurate.

“You don’t have to, if you don't want to.” Slowly, she lifted her head, and he heard her swallow nervously. “You could stay.”

On their own, the words were innocent, a simple invitation. But there was something in her tone, a heaviness that hinted at something else, something more. And as he turned so he could face her properly, he could see the naked vulnerability on her face, in her eyes, something he’d never seen in her before. Definitely not an innocent invitation, not a chance. Not with what he was reading in her, what his mind had apparently been taking note of for longer than even he'd realised. And he liked it, wanted it, wanted to see where it was going, find out exactly what she was thinking.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked quietly, putting the ball back in her court.

“I do. I want—oh, screw this.”

He had about half a second to prepare as she leaned in, and then she was kissing him. There was nothing tentative or hesitant about it, her lips moving hungrily over his. Then her hands were on his head, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him close. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, lost in each other, revelling in the sensation, the emotion. The only thing he knew was it was the best kiss of his life. He could sense everything she was feeling in it, heat, passion, longing, and gave it all back to her, giving in completely to the moment, to her.

When they finally broke apart, breathing heavy, eyes bright, he leaned his forehead against hers and let out a breathless chuckle. “Wow.”

"Yeah. That was..."

“Pretty good?”

“Better than pretty good. A lot better.”

"Definitely." Pulling back, he took a second to study her face, the elation in her eyes, and something else. Desire. For him. But not just that. Something else, something softer, something that made his heart skip a beat. A part of him wanted to say something about it, but another part was focused elsewhere. Those words could wait. “So, if I do stay,” he murmured instead, cupping her face gently with both hands, “am I sleeping on the couch, or...”

“I think,” she replied, shooting him a teasing grin, “you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Yeah, sorry, I guess it’s a little too soon for—"

“Hey, I never said that. I’m just saying we ran, like, five miles tonight." She arched an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen my shower? It's big enough for two.” The blatant suggestion in her tone had him grinning, and it only widened when she rose to her feet and reached for his hand. “Come on. I’ll race you.”


	2. 02

**02**

For the first time in over a week, Scott woke up happy.

It wasn't much of a mystery why he was in such a good mood, a few contributing factors immediately evident. Being allowed to wake up slowly, gradually, his heart not trying to beat its way out of his chest was a big part of it. Cracking open his eyes to find a brightly-lit room, not one shrouded in darkness played heavily into it as well. To see sunlight streaming through the window, bathing everything in a golden glow. Knowing without having to check the time that it was actually morning, that he wouldn’t have to struggle to find at least a few more hours of uneasy rest was a massive relief.

Every bit of that was great, all things he’d found himself praying for often lately, searching for just one good night’s rest. But all of it paled in comparison to the real source of his happiness, the real cause of the wide smile on his face.

Malia was in bed with him, her legs tangled with his, one arm thrown casually over his stomach, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew she was awake, could feel her fingertips slowly tracing intricate patterns on his chest, barely touching. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to sleep with somebody, wake up next to them, skin touching skin, know they were close. Her scent was all around him, the bed, the blankets imbued with it, clouding his senses, making his head swim in the best possible way. Waking up like that, with her, left him happier, more content than he could ever remember being.

Turning his head, he shifted closer, a lazy smile curving his lips as he closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair, warm and comfortable. There were things he wanted to say to her, things they needed to clarify about exactly what they were doing, what they'd done, but he bit his tongue for the moment, content to just stay there for a few more minutes, reveling in the sensation of her skin pressed against his, her warmth, the steady thrum of her heart beating next to his. Lying there, in her bed, surrounded by her, the memories of their night together played on a loop in his head. He didn’t have to meditate on it long to know it had been the greatest night of his life. Not just because of the sex, but feeling the emotion that came with it, never spoken but clear as day in the way she'd moved, the way she looked at him, the way she'd called out his name. It was a night he was never going to forget, no matter how long he lived.

“I know you’re not asleep.”

Her voice drew him from his thoughts, and he grinned as she looked up at him, her eyes bright, hair messy. There was an uncharacteristic softness in her eyes when they met his, her hand stilling, coming to rest over his heart, palm down. As he clasped his own over it, clutched it to him, he was absolutely certain he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

“I wasn’t faking, I was just soaking in the moment.” She arched an eyebrow, fighting a smile, then leaned into his touch as he reached over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered as he took a second to study her face, taking in the happiness in her expression, the way she was looking at him, like he was something special. It wasn’t anything he’d ever expected to see from her, not aimed at him, and it sparked something in him, a warmth in his chest unlike any he’d felt before. Whatever this was, it was big. “Good morning,” he murmured, thumb brushing gently against her cheek.

“It really is.” Leaning in, she kissed him, soft and short, hand sliding up to cup his face. “We should probably talk,” she whispered as she pulled away, eyes locked on his.

A necessary conversation, one he’d known was coming. They hadn’t said much throughout the night, physical desire driving their actions the entire way, consuming them. They hadn’t even reached the bathroom before they were pulling each other’s clothes off, and what followed was a blur of sensation and sound, hands and mouths, touching and exploring. Completely wrapped up in each other, things hadn’t ended until they both drifted into sleep, bodies intertwined, exhausted and satisfied. Words, defining what exactly they were doing beyond just having sex hadn’t even been a consideration, pushed aside by more urgent needs.

“Yeah, I guess we should. Uh...” He wasn’t sure where to start, and as he struggled to find the words, he could see her amusement growing, a smile tugging at her lips. “Last night was...”

“Incredible,” she finished for him, a grin finally breaking through, elation bleeding through her voice.

“Yes, definitely that.” He stopped to swallow, stomach fluttering nervously. Despite what he was seeing in her, had felt in her all night, he just couldn’t stop himself from wondering if maybe he was reading too deep into things, making leaps he shouldn’t be making. Twenty-four hours ago, he wouldn’t have even considered a relationship with her a possibility. Now, there was nothing he wanted more. “But more than that, right?” he asked hesitantly, cursing himself for sounding so uncertain. “That wasn’t... it wasn’t _just_ last night, was it?”

For a second, she was silent, just staring at him, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Then, slowly, a wide smile spread across her face. “No.” She came in for another kiss, lingering just long enough to draw a frustrated groan from him when she pulled back. “No, it was definitely more.” It was her turn to look nervous now, ducking her head slightly and looking at him from under her lashes. “I mean, if that’s what you want. Because—”

“It is! I mean, I do! I mean...” He trailed off as she lit up, and shot her a sheepish grin at his own excitement. “I do,” he repeated softly. “I didn’t see this coming. You and me… I never really even thought about it before last night. But now, after this, I want it. I want more.”

“Me too.” Her bright smile last for a second, then faltered slightly. “It could get complicated though.”

That possibility had already occurred to him. The two of them were connected in so many ways, through their friends, their pack, old relationships. Adding a new strand to that web had the potential to get messy, to impact a lot more than just them. But lying there, looking at her, he couldn’t find it in himself to worry. The little taste of them that he’d gotten was enough, more than enough to convince him to take the risk. If things went bad, if there was any kind of fallout, he knew the two of them could handle it. The reward was just too good to pass up.

“It could,” he agreed, slowly nodding, eyes never straying from hers, watching for her reaction. He’d made up his mind, but he couldn’t read hers. “Do you really care?”

She grinned. “Not even a little bit.”

“Ne neither.”

Before he could say anything else, she leaned in for another kiss, this one slower, lazier than any of the rest they’d shared. Her fingers wrapped around his arm, giving her leverage to slide closer, giving herself a better angle to work with as she moved her lips over his. And when she finally pulled away, he was left breathless, fully aware of the dopey grin on his face, and completely unable to do a thing about it. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her as she settled back down alongside him, and pulled her close.

Things were quiet for a moment then, as he felt her fingers start to move again, dancing over his chest. Until she huffed out a breath and said, “Lydia is never going to shut up about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“She, uh, she kinda guessed I was into you a couple weeks ago. We were talking about you and, I don’t know, I guess I said the wrong thing. She latched onto it and just wouldn’t shut up about it for, like, a week after. It took forever to convince her she was wrong. Probably because she wasn't.” She let out a little sigh. “God, I’m not looking forward to telling her we’re together after all that. She’s never gonna let this go.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Probably better to just end it now, huh?”

Her response was an open-palm smack to his chest hard enough to draw a grunt from him, but not enough to stop his laughter.

They faded into silence then, and he was content to just hold her as his thoughts strayed to the conversations in his own future. One in particular. While he fully expected nothing but support from Stiles in this, he knew things were probably going to be awkward with his best friend for awhile. Not necessarily because of any lingering feelings, or any real issues with the two of them being together, but just because it was strange to know your friend was dating your ex. He vividly remembered how he’d felt when Allison and Isaac had started growing closer. Other than a little anger at the start, he’d been happy for them both, glad they’d found something with each other. But it had always felt a little weird to see them together, and he couldn’t imagine it would be much different for Stiles. 

“What if...” The contemplative quality to her voice when she spoke again had him looking at her, curious. “What if we didn’t tell her?” His eyebrows shot up. “I mean, not just her. What if we didn’t tell anybody? What if we kept this just between us for now?”

“You mean, like, lie to everybody?”

“No, no. I mean, yeah, kinda. But not...” She sighed and pursed her lips. “Our friends are great, but when it comes to personal boundaries and stuff like that, they suck. Everybody’s always in everybody else’s business, y’know?” He nodded, unable to argue the point. They were all very close, and while that was usually a good thing, it could get uncomfortable at times. “And that’s... that’s fine. I mean, it’s annoying as hell sometimes, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t really picture anything else at this point. But I don’t want that for us, at least not at the start.” She licked her lips nervously, eyes locked on his. “I _really_ like you, Scott. I have for… for awhile. I want us to work out. And I think keeping this between us for awhile, seeing what we have before everybody else gets to see or talk about it... it’s the best thing for us. What do you think?”

Unwilling to rush to an answer on something that felt very important, he was quiet for a moment, weighing it over in his mind. What she was suggesting, it probably wouldn't be easy. Lydia, Stiles, they were both really smart, really observant. They noticed things, and something as big as this, as a relationship going on right under their noses was going to be hard to hide. Maybe impossible. Not to mention how keeping secrets from friends was always a risky proposition, regardless of how big or small they might be. But with that being said, he could see her point, could see just how much sense it made. As much as he loved his friends, having them know everything about him, about what he was doing almost all the time could get frustrating. Especially when it was something meant to be private, something that wasn’t really any of their business. The concept of keeping things under wraps for now, having some time to explore their new relationship without anybody else getting involved, was very appealing. And the longer he thought about, the better it sounded.

“Do you think we can do it?” he finally asked, trying to keep his voice level, to not give away how much he liked the idea. “Can we actually keep this a secret?”

She scoffed, waved her hand dismissively. “Of course. I mean, I’m a great liar. It’s you I’m more worried about. Can you even keep a straight face?” He grinned at that, as she shot him a wink. “No, but seriously, I want to try. Right now, this, it’s _ours_, y’know? It’s just you and me. No outside expectations, no nosy people sticking their noses where they don’t belong. And that… that’s what I want for us.”

He studied her closely for a moment, seeing the vulnerability in her expression, the naked yearning. He knew in that moment he couldn’t have denied her, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t, making it that much easier to give her exactly what she desired.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She looked at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah? Just like that? You’re willing to try?”

He nodded, smiling softly as he reached out and brushed the hair back from her face. “Yeah. Everything you said, you’re absolutely right. You want it, I want it, so why not, right? I mean, we’re not _really_ lying to everybody. We’re just keeping private stuff private.” He had a feeling that distinction might not be quite so clear when he was actually face-to-face with one of their friends, but right now, it was one he had no trouble making. “So, yeah, let’s give it a shot.”

Her response to that was to move, sliding over him and sitting up, straddling his waist. His hands reflexively went to her hips as she leaned down and covered his mouth with hers. Any thought of further conversation fled his mind then as he gave into her insistent efforts, her lips, her hands, moving, grasping. It was just this side of impossible to think about anything else but her when she was front and center like that, dominating all his senses, and he wasn’t interested in trying. The next few minutes were lost in a haze, the passage of time completely ignored as Scott focused all his attention on her. When she finally broke away, stretching out alongside him with her head pillowed on his chest, he was left disoriented, blinking slowly up at the ceiling, fighting to catch his breath.

“We should probably get up soon,” she said a moment later, though she made no attempt to move.

He sighed, slowly running his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, I guess.” If he had his way, they wouldn’t get out of bed for at least another couple of hours. The alarm clock sitting on the bedside table next to them told him it was just after nine, still early enough he didn’t have to worry about missing work. His mom would have assumed he'd just crashed at Lydia's last night, so he didn't need to be home for awhile still either. He was comfortable, happy, and he didn’t want it to end just yet. Unfortunately, real life still existed, full of things like jobs he'd ultimately have to go to, people who'd eventually wonder where he was, and, more importantly, the need to eat. “I guess I do owe you lunch, huh?”

“Yeah, you do. I beat—ah, crap.”

“What?”

She looked up at him, frowning. “Could we do dinner instead?”

Confused, he shrugged. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want. You already have lunch plans or something?”

“Sort of. I’m supposed to be at the school for noon.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Trust me, I’d much rather stay here. Or be literally anywhere else. But I was volunteered to help set up for that dumb job fair on Monday.”

“You volunteered to help?”

That surprised him. He was pretty sure he’d never met anyone with less school spirit than her. The only school events he’d ever actually seen her attend were lacrosse games, and she’d never seemed particularly interested even there.

“No, I didn’t volunteer. I was _volunteered_. Big difference.” His confusion must have shown on his face, because she sighed again and rolled her eyes. “I cut class on Tuesday, and Lydia’s mom caught me. I really didn’t want detention again, so I asked if there was anything else I could do. She signed me up for that instead. And now I get to spend my Saturday with a bunch of dumbasses, setting up for something I'm not even gonna go to.” He had to bite back a grin at the expression that formed on her face, about as close to a pout as he’d ever seen from her. “Should have just taken the detention.”

Still trying to keep his amusement contained, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Well,” he said, as he pulled back and cupped her cheek, running his thumb just under her eye. “There’s nothing I can do about that. I’ve got work this afternoon. But...” He drew out the word, smiling at the disgruntled look she shot him, “we’ve still got a couple hours, and I can cook a mean omelette, if you’re interested in breakfast. What do you think? Breakfast in bed?”

“A couple hours, huh?” She arched an eyebrow, something flaring to life in her eyes that had him swallowing, anticipation uncoiling in his belly. “I am hungry.” Her hand came up, clasped over his, the gentleness of her touch a far cry from the lecherous grin spreading across her face. “But not for food.”

Then her lips were on his again, and everything else faded away.

* * *

As Scott made the short drive from his house to the clinic, his mind kept wandering, lulled by the sound of the engine. That wasn’t an unusual thing for him. He’d always enjoyed driving, especially by himself. When he first got his license, he’d borrow his mom's car and drive for hours, all over city, down back roads he barely recognized, with no destination in mind. He liked the peace of the road, the freedom it gave him to think, to daydream.

This time, unsurprisingly, his mind kept returning to Malia. It hadn’t strayed far from her since they’d said goodbye. She’d dropped him off at home on her way to the school, leaving him with a parting kiss he could still feel on his lips, over an hour later. Despite spending all night together and every last minute of the morning they could spare, he found himself already missing her as he’d wandered upstairs to shower and change for work. The logical part of him knew it was just the shine of a new relationship, that nearly overwhelming urge to see her, touch her, be near her. Still, he had to keep convincing himself it wasn’t a good idea to give in and call her. With things so new, he had no idea where she stood on stuff like that, where she drew the line on what qualified as clingy. It would come in time, as they figured things out, but for now, he was in the dark. Which was okay anyway. He had places to be, things to do, and so did she. He could keep himself under control for now. 

Despite his preoccupation with her, he found other things to briefly distract himself with along the way. Like the successful chats he’d had with Lydia and Stiles earlier, covering for last night, explaining where he’d disappeared to.

He’d called Lydia after he got home, reassuring her he was still alive, and apologised for not checking in earlier. She’d left him half a dozen messages since her party, none of which he’d gotten because his phone had spent the night in the pocket of his jeans, folded and forgotten on the bathroom counter where he’d left them. To his relief, she completely bought his story about cutting out early because of a headache. She wasn’t happy he’d left without saying anything to her, but she hadn’t pressed, hadn’t seemed to doubt his excuse at all, and that was a trade-off he was happy to take.

The conversation with Stiles had gone just as well, his best friend calling maybe ten seconds after he’d finished up with Lydia. There’d been a tense moment when he mentioned seeing Malia at the party and sending her outside to find him, but when he casually suggested it must have been after he’d already left, Stiles had just accepted it and moved on without comment.

A part of him felt a little bad about lying to the two of them. He wasn’t used to keeping secrets from his friends, especially when it involved good news, things that made him happy, happier than he’d been in a long time. It wasn't in his nature to keep things like that quiet, the desire to share his joy with the people he cared about coming naturally to him. But a bigger part of him knew it was for a good cause, the best possible cause, something Malia wanted, something he wanted just as much. And it really wasn’t any of their business anyway. So he tried to put it out of mind, refused to dwell on it, and concentrated on the drive instead.

When he pulled into the parking lot, Scott was surprised to see a familiar black SUV already sitting there. As he took off his helmet and hung it over his handlebars, he looked the car over. He was pretty sure it belonged to Argent, a suspicion he confirmed a second later when he walked past it and got a look at the license plate. Frowning, he headed for the clinic, more than a little curious about why the former hunter was back in town. He’d been mostly absent the past few months, ever since their triumph over the Beast, working and trying to keep tabs on Gerard, on anything his father might be plotting. The old man hadn’t lost a step, making it basically a full-time job just keeping track of where he was, what he was up to. Since everything had been mostly quiet in Beacon Hills, there’d been no reason for him to come back, so other than a few texts and phone calls, they hadn’t had much communication. He definitely hadn’t mentioned any plans to return the last time they’d talked, which probably meant something was up.

Before he could open the door, he felt his phone go off, and paused. Pulling it out, he looked at the display, grinning when he saw it was Malia texting. His grin widened when he read the messages.

_— this is terrible everybody sucks and i want to leave_   
_— cant believe people seriously volunteer for this shit_   
_— think they’ll care if i just leave?_

He let out a snort and quickly replied.

— _yeah, i think they probably will. just stick it out, you can do it. i’ve got faith in you._

He waited a second, curious to see what she’d say, and wasn’t disappointed when her response was just the middle finger emoji. Chuckling to himself, he sent back a heart, then pocketed his phone, and made his way inside the clinic.

“Deaton? Argent?” he called, as he stepped inside and found an empty room. “Anybody here?”

“We’re back here.”

Following the sound of voices, he headed into the examination room, where the two men were standing, papers spread over the table between them. They both looked up as he stepped inside, and his eyes immediately widened, the lingering smile quickly fading from his face. Argent did not look good.

“Scott,” he said, extending his hand and smiling despite his obvious injuries. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, good to see you too.” As he shook the offered hand, Scott studied his face closely, taking in just how haggard the man looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his features gaunt, like he hadn’t been eating enough. A remnant of what had to have been a major bruise decorated one whole side of his jaw, mirrored on the other side by a deep gash running parallel to his eye. He looked like he’d been mugged. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes narrowed. “What happened to you?”

“I’m fine. I just…” Trailing off, he rubbed a hand over his face and blew out a heavy breath. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” His eyes flitted briefly to Deaton, whose expression was giving nothing away, then back. “Anything we need to worry about?”

“No, I sorted everything out. Really,” he insisted, seeing the obvious disbelief on his face. “It was just a job that got a little out of hand. I made a mistake, got caught off-guard, but it all worked out in the end. I took care of it, and I’m fine. No need to worry.”

Scott held his gaze, searching his face for some sign he was downplaying the issue, trying to hide something. It wouldn’t be the first time a friend had tried to keep a danger hidden in order to keep the rest of them safe. But there was nothing there to suggest he was being insincere. Nothing in his expression, nothing in his scent. “Okay,” he said after a moment, letting it go. “Glad you’re all right.” That drew an appreciative nod as he turned his attention to the table, and the sheets of paper decorating it. “What are you guys doing?” He reached for the closest one, squinting at the small print. “What’s all this?”

“Property records,” Deaton replied.

“Right.” He frowned as he scanned the document, not really understanding any of what he was reading. Other than some addresses he recognised as being local, it all looked like gibberish to him. A quick glance at the rest of the pages told him they were all similar. “Why do you have these? Are you looking for something, or...” He trailed off, waiting for one of them would fill in the blanks.

“Not something. Somebody.” Argent exchanged a brief glance with Deaton, just a quick locking of eyes. It was over in a flash, barely even enough to notice, but more than enough to make him suspicious. “That’s why I’m here. I’m looking for somebody, somebody who owns property here in Beacon Hills.” 

“Oh.” Silence reigned as he looked from one man to the other, waiting for an explanation, some more information, anything, but both of them had already returned their attention to the papers. He gave them a moment to elaborate, but once it became clear nothing was forthcoming, he tapped the table with a finger. “Is _this_ something I should be worried about?”

“No,” Argent said casually, his eyes never leaving the table, “this is nothing. Just some personal business. Deaton’s just giving me a second set of eyes to go over everything with. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right.” Eyes narrowed, he watched the two men for a minute. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being intentionally shut out. It wasn’t like Argent was being overly shady, but it was clear he was choosing his words carefully, leaving something unsaid. Which was the man’s prerogative, whether he liked it or not. He couldn’t make him talk, no matter how much he wanted to know what was going. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Positive.”

“Okay. If anything changes, let me know.” With that final offer, he washed his hands of whatever was going on. He’d wasted enough time already, and if there really was something going on, he’d learn about it soon enough. Turning to Deaton, he gestured back toward the storage room. “You just want me to get started?”

Deaton stared at him for a moment, blinked once, slowly. “Started on what?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh... cleaning?”

While he did as good a job as he could keeping everything neat and tidy during normal working hours, there was just too much to do, too many things to take care of. It just wasn’t realistic to expect everything to be perfect all the time. So once every two months or so, Deaton would designate an open Saturday as a clean-up day, and the pair would come in and make sure everything was completely spotless. In most cases, it was the day he looked forward to the least, the work boring and monotonous, but it needed to be done, and he had no problem doing it. Just a necessary part of the job.

“Ah, yes, right. That was today. I—” Cutting off, he almost seemed to visibly deflate, an apologetic look appearing on his face. “I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind. And now, with this...” He waved his hand over the table. “Would you mind coming in next Saturday instead?”

Fighting back the sudden rush of excitement at the thought he might not have to stay, Scott played it cool, nodding and shrugging as nonchalantly as he could. “Yeah. I mean, no, that’s fine.” Even as he spoke, his thoughts were already going places, the glimmer of a plan to take advantage of his unexpected free time starting to take shape in the back of his mind. “I don’t have anything else going on next weekend, so that works for me.”

“Are you sure? If you want to stay today, you can. You’ll be on your own, but—”

“No, no, next week is better. I mean, we’ll get more done with the two of us, right?” The urge to make a break for the door before anything changed was strong, but he choked it back, instead turning toward Argent and nodding toward the documents. “You’ll let me know if you need me for this, right?”

“I will. Thanks.”

This time, when he extended his hand, Scott used it to pull him close, giving him a quick, one-armed hug. Regardless of what was going on, it really was just nice to see him again. Texts were good and all, but actually seeing him in person, visual proof he was still in one piece, still fighting the good fight was better.

“All right, I’m gone,” he said as soon as he pulled away, already backing toward the door.

Lifting his hand, he waved a quick farewell to the two men, then headed out of the room and out into the parking lot. He was sure they noticed how much of a hurry he was in, but figured they’d probably just chalk it up to a desire to get home. And in most other cases, that would definitely be his destination. But not today. Today, he had somewhere else to be, someone to see. And a hastily-constructed plan, completely made up on the spot, to put into motion.

As he stepped toward his bike, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he needed.

— _hey, are you busy right now?_

* * *

Cracking the gym door open, Scott cautiously stuck his head in and looked around. It wasn’t exactly a hive of activity inside, but there were enough people, enough movement, it took him a second to spot Malia. She was sitting on the bleachers along the far wall, talking to some girl he didn’t recognise, and even from a distance, he could tell she wasn’t having a good time. She looked tense, her shoulders rigid, and as he watched, she buried her face in her hands and let out a frustrated groan.

Figuring he’d better act before she snapped and strangled somebody, he cupped his hands around his mouth, and whispered, “_Malia_.”

Despite the noise in the gym, she immediately straightened up and looked around, quickly zeroing in on him. He waved as they made eye contact, and felt a surge of pride at the way she instantly brightened up, frown twisting into a smile. He loved that he could draw that kind of reaction from her. Rising to her feet, she bee-lined toward him, as he ducked back out before anybody else could spot him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she stepped out into the hallway, reaching for his hands, grasping them tight before the door could even swing all the way shut behind her. “I thought you had to work.”

“I just wanted to see you.” She scoffed, and he put on an insulted look, trying not to grin. “What? It’s true. I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m sure. I—where are we going?”

“Somewhere a little more private.”

As they were speaking, he’d started leading them away from the gym, further down the hallway. Around the nearest corner they went, and straight into an empty classroom he’d spotted on the way in. He wasn’t sure which class it was for, didn’t care. All that mattered was as soon as he closed the door behind them, they were alone again, for the first time since he’d left her car a couple hours ago. She wasted no time in taking advantage of their surroundings, backing him up against the door the second it clicked shut, and kissing him hard. His arms went around her waist, pulling her tight to him, moulding her body to his as he felt her hands slip under the hem of his shirt. He gasped into her mouth as fingernails scraped gently over his lower stomach, his body reacting to her nearness, and he felt her lips curve into a satisfied smile against his.

Scott would have been more than happy to stay there like that for the rest of the afternoon, lost in her, but the annoyingly responsible part of him was there to get him back on track. It took awhile for the little voice in his head to break through, and even longer for him to give in to it, but eventually he was able to push her away, ignoring the needy moan she let out as she tried to come back to him, despite what hearing it did to him. Turning his head, he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to gather his wits and give his body a chance to cool down.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked, voice husky, still trying to press up against him.

“Because that’s not why I’m here,” he managed to get out, slapping her hand away when she tried to slide it back under his shirt. “That’s not the only reason I’m here,” he amended a second later, grinning sheepishly at the skeptical noise she made. “And if we’re really gonna try to keep us a secret, it might not the best idea to get carried away in an unlocked classroom on day one, y’know?”

She was silent for a second, then huffed out an amused breath as she backed off slightly, running her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, good point.” Following his lead, she drew in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “Okay, why are you here?” She arched an eyebrow. “Did you come to rescue me?”

“Do you need rescuing?”

“Ugh, I might.” Slipping her arms around his waist, she buried her face in his shoulder, obscuring the sour look he’d already spotted forming. “Today really sucked,” she muttered into his shirt. “Nobody knows what they’re doing. Half the volunteers are preppy freshmen who don’t know how to take orders, and the other half are here for the same reason I am. The teacher who was supposed to be in charge called in sick, so Finstock got drafted instead, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know what we’re supposed to be getting ready for.” Pulling back, she met his gaze and slowly shook her head. “It’s a shit-show, Scott.”

He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah, sounds like it. But don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

“You’re gonna break me out?” she asked hopefully.

“I thought about it,” he admitted, a playful smile twisting his lips. “Thought about maybe pulling the fire alarm. Actually, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t try that.” She just shrugged, and he immediately knew he hadn’t been the only one to consider it. “I decided against it because the last thing I want right now to get caught doing something stupid. Really don’t want either of us ending up with a bunch of detentions.” His smile turned suggestive. “Better things to do with our time.”

Her eyes lit up. “Definitely.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his again, lingering just long enough to get his pulse up again before she pulled back. “Okay, so, what’s your plan?”

“I’m gonna help you.”

“You’re going to help?” She arched an eyebrow as he nodded earnestly. “Okay, no offense, Scott, but I don’t think one person is going to make much of a difference. You saw the gym. It’s been two hours and we haven’t managed to get anything done.”

“Who said it’s just me?” He grinned at the way her eyebrows drew together. “I called in some reinforcements. Lydia, Stiles, and Liam are on their way. Maybe others, depending on if Hayden and Mason can ditch their family stuff and get free. But, yeah, they’ll be here soon. With all of us, I figure we can knock this stuff out in an hour, hour and a half tops. And then...”

“And then we’re free to do whatever we want,” she finished for him, a matching grin spreading across her face. “That’s pretty smart.”

“I have my moments.”

“Yeah, you do.” Bringing her arms up, she draped them over his shoulders, locking her fingers together behind him. “So, how long do we have until they get here?”

Her question sounded innocent enough, but there was an edge to it, an undercurrent of something that had his heart skipping a beat, anticipation flaring up. “Uh—” He cleared his throat, hands going to her hips. “Not long. Five minutes, maybe ten.”

“And once they get here, this—” She pressed herself against him in a way that had him groaning and biting his lip. “—has to stop, right?”

“If you don’t want them to find out about us, yeah.”

“Interesting.” He could see the heat in her eyes as she trailed a hand slowly down his chest, and he wasn’t sure if he should push her away or pull her closer. His brain was telling him one thing, while his body was saying something else entirely. Considering how worked up he was, he was pretty sure which was going to win out. “You know what I’m wondering?”

“What’s that?” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Exactly how much fun can we have in five minutes?” Flashing him a hungry grin, she reached around him and locked the door. “Let’s find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's chapter two. This story has become my NaNo project, so if it's a little rough, blame it on that lol. I decided to add a secondary plot, a supernatural threat, which is what the section with Argent is going to turn into, but the goal is to keep it small, just a reason to get Scott and Malia out of their houses a bit, keep things from getting too repetitive. The main plot remains the same. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


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